


You Bake When You're Stressed

by ApocalypticNuisance



Category: Psych
Genre: EVEN IF THERE'S NO SMUT, M/M, Shawn is definitely the top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:43:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApocalypticNuisance/pseuds/ApocalypticNuisance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shawn has to comfort a stressed out Lassiter late at night</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Bake When You're Stressed

The smell of fresh baked cookies and other assorted goods started to drift through Detective Carlton Lassiter’s home one morning. The sweet smell started to wake up the snoring psychic. Said psychic rolled over to face the clock, his eyes cracking open as he stared at the clock. 3:00 am?

The psychic, Shawn Spencer was his name, sat up with a rather annoyed look. Normally, he loved it when his boyfriend baked something sweet, he was rather good at it too, but he baked for special occasions and never when he really felt like it. Unfortunately, it was pretty normal for Shawn to have to put up with his boyfriend baking at odd hours of the day or night. Not because Lassiter wanted to, but because he baked when he was stressed.

Shawn yawns and stretches out, brushing a stray strand of hair from his eye before actually slipping out of bed. He made his way toward the kitchen where he knew his lover was.

Sure enough, Carlton was standing in front of his stove in nothing but his boxers - he was testing Spencer now, wasn’t he? - and stirring some batter. It looked like cake batter. 

“Lassiecakes~ What are you doing up so late?”

Lassiter jumps when he hears Shawn’s voice, whirling around to face the psychic. “Shawn! Uh...I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Nah, Lassie. The cookies did” 

Shawn reached out and took a cookie from the several other dozen that was scattered around the table and counter. He took a bite out of it and hummed. Ugh, he loved Lassiter’s baking, but now wasn’t the time to compliment his glorious lover.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“...Nothing’s the matter, why would you think something was the matter?” Lassiter scoffs and turns around to continue stirring the batter in the bowl.

“Well - and don’t get me wrong Lassie, I really do love your baking - you seem a little off. And not the kind of ‘off’ that comes with holding a secret, nu uh, I would know if you’re hiding something, the kind of ‘off’ that happens when you’re super stressed out!”

“I’m not stressed, Spencer, stop asking questions.” 

Lassiter didn’t bother to turn around though, so something was obviously very wrong. 

“Lassie…..”

Silence.

“Lassiebabe, I’m serious. I’m worried about you…”

The detective bit his lip as he started to stir the batter faster, not really caring that he ended up getting some on his face and shirt. He poured the batter into a band and practically flung it into the oven.

He froze when he felt arms around him and Shawn’s head on his shoulder.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Carlton…”

“...I...had a rough case. I had just been put on it and I...I messed up so bad, Spencer. I let the suspect get away and he pretty much just manipulated me into letting him go and-”

“Shhh, Lassie, it’s alright. I’m sure it wasn’t your fault at all. Not everyone is perfect and, let’s be real here, I’ve screwed up on a lot of cases too!”

“....You screw up on almost every one of them…” Lassiter mutters.

“Exactly! That’s the spirit, Lassiecakes! No more being all stressed out, alright?” 

“A-Alright.”

Shawn grins and leans over to his boyfriend, licking the cake batter off his cheek, winking as he pulled away. He always knew how to get to Lassiter, he barely had to do anything and the detective was putty in his hands. Of course Carlton would never admit that. He didn’t have to, though, everyone knew.

“Don’t do that! It’s gross!” 

Lassiter probably shouldn’t have flipped out though, because Shawn immediately pounced on him, starting to lick off every splatter of batter he could find on his boyfriend’s face.

“Shawn! Shawn, ew! Spencer!! Gross!!” Lassiter tries to shove him off, but ended up in a fit of laughter and sprawled out on the floor with his boyfriend on top.

Shawn smirks, “better finish up that cake, Lassie. I want to eat you more than that, but we can’t do that until you’re back in bed now, can we?” he winks at Lassiter and jumps up, casually heading back to the bedroom.

The detective lay on the tile floor, his face flushed a deep shade of red. He couldn’t tell if he should get up now and punch Shawn, or if he should just lay there until the timer went off signalling the cake was done.

“Oh, and Lassie?” Shawn’s voice echoes down the hall from the bedroom. “Don’t wear anything but that apron when you come to bed!” 

Oh yeah, he was going to punch Shawn.


End file.
